


If We Fall From Grace

by Seinn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Slow Build Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:02:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seinn/pseuds/Seinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Semi-AU beginning at the end of season 5/start of season 6. Point of view switches between Sam and Gabriel each chapter.</p>
<p>Sam has been pulled out of Hell, but his soul has been left behind. He begins to hunt on his own after checking in on his brother only to find he's being followed by a certain archangel. Can Gabriel convince him to take his soul back and what will happen if he does?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is more like an introduction, really. I'm more of a roleplayer, in general, and this is my first real solo attempt at a multi-chapter fanfic, so here goes nothing XD;

After two weeks, it was annoying.

After two months, it was maddening.

Glimpses of a familiar short, blond, male disappearing into a crowd, a flash of an iconic jacket a corner, and the pervading sense that he was being watched – it was distracting. Every town he landed in, every case he picked up, these anomalies in his peripheral vision haunted him and he found himself constantly wracking his brain to figure out why it was happening. The guy was dead, wasn’t he? Admittedly, they _had_ learned that being dead wasn’t always as permanent as it sounded, but if it wasn’t his imagination and the man really was alive and well…why the stalking? There were no big-bads left to deal with, as far as he knew, and no reason to guide or trap only one half of the ‘infamous’ sibling duo.

So when it finally became too much for him to ignore any longer, Sam did what he did best. He laid a trap.

Now, staring down the shorter man, he wonders if that had been the best choice. Maybe he should have left it alone, because the way the angel looks at him has the hunter gauging whether or not he should experiment to find a method of killing him for good. “How did you find me?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Please, kiddo, who d’you think you’re dealing with, here?”

“Fine. How did you survive?” The last time he had seen Gabriel, the angel had been facing off against Lucifer. Well, technically speaking, the _last_ time he’d seen Gabriel, it had been in the form of a DVD containing one last message, but who knew when that had been materialized. He looks good, though. Still short, still sarcastic, with the same glint in his honey eyes that somehow manages to be a mixture of vaguely exasperated annoyance and shameless mischief.

“ _Trickster_.” Gabriel huffs, annoyed, glancing between the holy fire and the giant of a hunter. “Better question is how did _you_ survive, Sasquatch? The grapevine’s been buzzing with rumors you took a swan dive, so what’s the deal?”

That is something Sam doesn’t have a good answer for. Logically speaking, he should still be in the cage, should still be hosting Lucifer, but there he is. He shrugs, “I, uh…I don’t know.” It hasn’t been important, really. He is alive and whole and healthy. Dean has managed to break free of the life, has gone back to Lisa and Ben and seemed to settle down and Sam isn’t about to interrupt that. It has been easier than he’d expected to adjust to life alone, even hunting has become easier since he’d come back.

“Not many things with the juice to pull that off.”

The hunter nods, he knows the list of creatures in the world with the sheer power required to pull someone out of Hell is miniscule. Out of Hell _and_ out of the cage containing two pissed-off archangels? Well, it makes him wonder if God isn’t lurking in the background somewhere – but then why drag him back? Hasn’t he done everything he could? “All I know is I woke up topside a few months back.” Truth be told, Sam doesn’t care for the way the archangel’s eyes narrow, like he is staring, not at or through, but into him. Nor does he care for the way Gabriel’s head tilts and his stare grows suspicious – analyzing? “What?”

“Look, kiddo, as fun as this is, maybe you could go ahead and let me out. I’m not gonna disappear,” he holds his hand up in the Boy Scout salute, “scout’s honor.”

“You let yourself get caught.”

“See, I knew you were the smart one.”

Sam is silent a moment before kicking dirt and gravel over the circle, with it broken Gabriel dispells the remaining flames with a snap. Maybe the plan to trap the angel had been doomed from the start, even if it had worked when Gabriel dumped them in TV-land. Of course, he had been a trickster for eons, had even been good enough to run with the pagan pantheon. Compared to that, a circle of holy oil in a back-alley parking lot seems like a beginner’s strategy, especially when it is an old tactic. “Why were you stalking me?”

“What? Can’t a guy check in on his favorite moose?” The cheeky grin falters when Sam’s flat expression doesn’t change. “Alright, alright, let’s get us somewhere a little more comfortable first, though. It’s gonna be a long night.” The smirk is back, but Sam has never been able to read the expression. Not fully.

“Fine,” he speaks through a sigh after a few seconds of hesitation. If anything, a slightly more private setting does remove the chance of a passer-by overhearing anything they shouldn’t. One just can’t trust strangers, you never know who might be a demon. Or a shapeshifter. Or, he supposed, an angel. “I’m in the motel at the edge of town.”

“Never woulda guessed.” With that bit of sarcasm and the snap that follows it, the scenery shifts before Gabriel even lowers his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

“Geeze, Sammy, pushing the ‘neat and tidy’ limits, aren’t we?” The room is sparse, at best. A single bed, impeccably made, most surfaces devoid of clutter – save for the one table near the window which is covered in assorted books and one battered laptop – and exceptionally organized notes pinned up on the wall. Out of all of that, the only thing that strikes the archangel as really strange is the bed. “Where’s Dean-o, trouble in paradise?” He doesn’t flinch from the look cast his way by the younger man. The worst Sam can do to him is trap him again, so outside that ring of fire the boy loses the intimidation factor.

Gabriel settles into a chair, propping his feet up in a clear space on the table, and laces his fingers over his stomach. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t know.” He lifts an eyebrow at the hunter. There is something very strange about Sam and he is hoping against hope what he has seen has been a mistake. If Sam is leaving his brother in the dark about being alive, though…it raises questions that are really hard to ignore.

“He’s out, he’s happy.”

“Out?”

“Of the hunter gig. He’s better off where he’s at.”

“So what about you? You could’ve done anything you wanted, but you use your second chance to jump right back into it?” He pauses the space of a breath, “Or is this the third? Fourth?” He lifts a hand like he’s waving the whole subject off, “Eh, I can never keep up with you crazy kids.”

“It just…” Sam shrugs, taking a seat at the corner of the bed, “feels right. I didn’t have anyone to go to and by the time I found him, Dean had found Lisa again.”

While it all sounds perfectly reasonable, the hunter’s tone of voice doesn’t seem to match with what is being said. Sure, on the surface it does, but there was something in the eyes that says it hadn’t been a difficult choice at all. A lack of sincerity and determination that is typically present when either brother spoke about the other. Where the hell was the Sam that had spent months tracking his ass all over the country to get revenge after the Mystery Spot? “So…what? You’re just gonna let him keep on believing you’re trapped in Hell? You’re gonna let him grieve or wait for him to do something stupid to try bringing you back?” And what will happen when that fails? 

“It’s better this way.”

Oh, sure, the words are right and he even has that…disarmingly puppy-dog quality out in full force, but he is dealing with an archangel, a retired god, does he really think he could put so little effort into the lies and get away with it? “You can’t trick a tickster, kiddo.”

“What?” To his credit, Sam seems genuinely confused for a second or two.

“There’s something off about you, noticed it weeks ago.” He almost has to laugh, “What, you think I’ve been hiding in the shadows the whole time? C’mon Sam.” Honestly, it would have been more disconcerting if Sam had emerged from the pit entirely whole. That would have indicated something on a much larger power level than either of the boys are used to dealing with. Namely, his Father. “So spill.” It is nicer, this way, letting Sam come clean about whatever he might know than it is to invade his head or forcibly confirm the suspicion that has been growing over the past few weeks.

“Spill what? I told you what I remember.”

“Humor me. Details, Sammy, details.” He smirks even as the hunter sighs. 

“Okay, uh,” He reaches up to push his hair back, out of his face, and Gabriel’s gaze follows the movement, hair that perfect should be against the laws of nature. “I woke up in a field, I don’t think I’d even been gone a week. I have no idea who pulled me out, I had no idea what day it was until I found a newspaper, and the first thing I did was try to call Dean.” The man falls silent for a few seconds, “He never answered. Cas never answered. Bobby didn’t believe me. So I went back to what I know and when I did find Dean…I couldn’t pull him away from Lisa and Ben, it was his chance to get out.” Sam finishes with another little shrug.

“And you haven’t noticed anything weird? I mean, c’mon, some mystery critter pulled you out of the cage – not an easy task, by the way – and you’re telling me everything’s hunky dory?” He doesn’t buy it for a moment. “You been feverish?”

“No.”

“Overcome with the urge to speak in tongues?”

“No.”

“Sleeping okay?”

There it is. Hesitation. Gabriel’s eyes narrow on the hunter again.

“…No.”

“No?” The archangel shrugs, “well, I guess that’s understandable. Nightmares?” A stint in Hell is no walk in the park, and Lucifer was never the cuddly sort. He had to have been royally pissed about being back in his old cell.

“Not exactly.”

He watches as Sam stands and moves to the mini-fridge to retrieve a beer. “Care to expand on that one?” Gabriel glances at the bed – did Sam make it every morning when he woke up or have the covers even been disturbed once since the guy got the room?

“I, uh…I haven’t slept since I woke up in that field.”

Gabriel’s head falls back as an exasperated sigh escapes him. Not sleeping? Pretty freakin’ huge red flag. “And you didn’t think that was weird?”

“Of course I did,” with the bottle open, he settles himself into the chair opposite the angel and sets the beer on the table, “but I’ve felt better these past few months than I have the past few years.”

“The crap you boys go after and you’re not worried what that could mean?”

“No. Maybe I should be, but I’m not.”

Gabriel is silent a moment, staring at the ceiling. “So, Sasquatch, were you surprised to see me again?” It is an abrupt change of subject, but with a purpose. 

“I- what?”

Aw. He’s adorable when he’s confused. “Angry? Annoyed? Ah!” he snaps his fingers and wags one at the hunter, “You missed me, right?”

“Well, I thought you were dead.”

“So surprised?” He shifts when Sam doesn’t answer after half a minute, dropping his feet back to the floor and turning so he can face the other man more fully. “Anything?”

“I wanted to know why you were following me.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Well, I don’t know what else you want from me, Gabriel.”

“How about a damn emotional response to the sudden reappearance of the guy that left you hangin’ during the apocalypse.” He’s leaned forward, staring the hunter down, trying to get some sort of rise out of him. When Sam does little more than shrug, the angel frowns.

“I’m just not feeling it.”

“Anything?”

“Anything. I don’t know how to explain it, but ever since I came back, I’ve been…I don’t know…clear. I’m a better hunter, now, than I’ve ever been.”

Gabriel is up and moving around the table to stand in front of Sam before the man finishes speaking. “I need to try something, Sam, and it’s not gonna be comfortable.” The hunter’s eyebrows go up and the angel catches the start of a smirk before he rolls his eyes. “Not that.” Hey, he knows that look, and he’d be lying if he said there isn’t a split second where he wonders if he could actually head down that path instead. Sure, he’s caught the kid looking once or twice when they have met in the past, but he’s never thought Sam would be up for that. “Just- ..sit still, ‘kay?” Sam has to know he doesn’t actually have much of a choice, right? 

After a second, he finally nods. “Yeah, sure.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Gabriel had said it would be uncomfortable, Sam didn’t know what he actually expected. Maybe the feeling of the angel’s consciousness invading his own, but definitely not the searing ache that spread through his torso as the other man’s hand sinks inside. He probably should have been afraid, especially when the angel’s frown only deepens until he finally withdraws his arm and steps back. Sam exhales sharply, “Shit, Gabriel, you couldn’t have given a little more warning?” It still stings, even as he rubs at the spot where the angel’s hand had been.

“Well, I didn’t want to believe it, but can’t argue with facts.” The angel moves back, rolling his sleeve down again.

“So…what?” Sam sips at his beer, eyeing the angel curiously. What could he have needed to figure out that could only be managed by metaphysical molestation? He doesn’t have a better word for what Gabriel had done, and he should probably be a little more freaked out about the guy _reaching into his freaking torso_ than he is.

“Whoever pulled you out left a piece behind.” He looks agitated.

“What d’you mean?”

“You’ve been runnin’ on empty, kiddo.”

Sam frowns at that, “Okay, cut the cryptic crap and just tell me what’s going on.” He doesn’t really have the patience to deal with the trickster’s riddles or games and he’d like to know why the angel is staring at him as if he’s sprouted a second head.

“Your soul is missing.” It is almost deadpan and Gabriel crosses his arms over his chest as he continues, “Which explains a lot, actually.”

He doesn’t really react beyond raising an eyebrow at the angel. If that is true, it makes sense why he’s been able to be so objective about everything. Why he hasn’t felt the slightest twinge of fear going up against something that could rip him in half or the tiniest hint of remorse about a few other questionable things he’s done (things that were usually very out of character for him) and why it has been so easy to leave his brother behind. It’s just…“How is that even possible?” they know so little about souls. The idea that he could be alive, up and walking around without one of the most important pieces…it should have been more disturbing than it is.

Gabriel shrugs and drops onto the corner of the bed, leaning back and propping himself up on his arms, “Got me. Maybe whatever yanked your ass outta the fire wasn’t strong enough to grab everything.”

Sam sips at his beer again, eyeing the archangel. Gabriel is a trickster, can he really be trusted? “Cas pulled Dean out of Hell with his soul intact.”

“Cas didn’t pull Dean out of Luci’s box.”

Everything he knew told him a soul was important, that he should probably make an effort to get it back, if that was possible, but what would that mean? He is a far more efficient hunter without it and there have been so many times in the past where the pain or the guilt have seemed too much to live with. If he retrieves his soul, won’t all of that come flooding back? He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life hating himself.

“Hey, Sasquatch, any of this getting’ through to you?”

Gabriel’s voice breaks through his thoughts. Sam had seen the angel’s lips moving, but nothing has registered. “Hm?”

The archangel sighs, “I _said_ we might be able to get it back. Now, _I’m_ not diving into the pit, but I might be able to call in a favor or two.”

“Kali?”

“Eh, more like Death. Kali won’t touch the ‘Christian’ stuff, especially after what Luci did to the others.”

Death? Sam chuckles lightly. “Yeah, he’s not exactly fond of us.” Even if Dean had been the one to cause the most trouble. Sam tips the bottle back again, he doesn’t know if he really wants his soul back.

“You leave everything to me, we can get you fixed up in a jiffy.”

“Yeah, well, I mean no rush, right?” He has no idea what happened to him in Hell or what might still be happening to the piece that has been left behind. Adding even more horrific memories on top of what he already carries does not seem like a great idea in his mind.

Gabriel’s eyebrows shoot up, as the archangel leans forward, “Uh, yeah rush. Listen, kiddo, whatever’s going on down there is only gonna get worse with time. Do you have any idea what that could mean? Do you remember anything from when you were down there?” He pushes himself to his feet and Sam watches as the other man raids the mini-fridge and makes a face at the choice of booze. He isn’t at all surprised when Gabriel turns with an unlabeled bottle of mystery liquid instead of beer.

The angel holds up the unknown beverage, “Little something from my private stash, all the rage upstairs a few millennia ago.”

“I…no. I don’t remember anything between jumping into the cage and waking up in the field.” He drains his bottle and tosses it into the trash, sparing a moment to wonder if Gabriel would share whatever he had conjured. How strong is it if it was something angels had enjoyed? He remembers Cas had needed an entire liquor store to get good and drunk, so is Gabriel’s stuff even safe for humans? The angel reclaims his earlier seat and Sam sighs lightly, “Well, what’s the worst that could happen if I just go without?” It seems like a better option, to him. If unspeakable things are being done to his soul, and one month on Earth is equivalent to ten years in hell, he is looking at over sixty years worth of torture that will be coming back with it. Add that to the fact everything is just… _easier_ without the more complex emotions. He doesn’t have to deal with the guilt or the fear or the self-loathing anymore.

Gabriel is frowning, though. “Why would that even be an option?”

Sam shrugs, “Maybe I’m happier this way.”

The mysterious bottle of alcohol vanishes, “You can’t mean that. Sam, it’s your _soul_ , it’s the thing that makes you human. Why would you give that up?”

“I don’t see how it’s much different from a demon deal aside from me being alive.”

“And that should bother you!” It isn’t quite a shout, but the archangel is definitely not happy. “What would Dean say if he knew you were running around like this, huh?”

The hunter frowns at that. His brother would do everything in his power to make things ‘right’ again, Sam knows that. “You’re asking me to take in over sixty years worth of memories from Hell, Gabriel.” He shakes his head, “I’m better off this way.”


	4. Chapter 4

A month had passed since Sam had finally confronted him and Gabriel had made no progress in getting the stubborn idiot to agree to take his soul back. The fourth time they had fought in a week, the angel had decided it was easier to check in every day or so rather than spend every waking hour with the human. Neither of them needed to sleep, and that meant many _long_ hours together. It was fine when Sam had a hunt going on, but Gabriel had quickly learned that, without his soul, his favorite Winchester had a tendency to relieve his boredom with whatever bar skank caught his eye. It had been funny the first time Gabriel had interrupted but it had become annoying very quickly.

This time, when he lands in the middle of the room, it isn’t some waitress occupying the hunter’s bed. Maybe he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was, but the last thing Gabriel expects is to see a very disheveled man sprawled out across the motel mattress. Blond, short, most definitely _not_ Sasquatch – who, by the sound of things, is in the shower. It is a drastic change from the cute little brunettes the guy seems to favor and he’d be blind if he overlooked certain similarities between the stranger and himself. The question is, if his assumptions are anything close to correct, why hasn’t Sam acted on any of it? The guy has no soul, no real inhibitions, so what was it?

When the water shuts off in the other room, Gabriel makes himself invisible and moves to a corner, out of the way. It is another minute before Sam emerges dressed only in jeans, his hair still wet and the angel can’t help but frown at the stranger still tangled in the sheets. Lucky bastard.

“Hey.” The hunter shakes said stranger, who groans and rolls over. “What are you still doing here?”

Right. No tact either. The archangel sighs to himself as the guy scowls up at Sam, muttering something he can’t quite make out.

“You gotta leave, man, I told you that.” Sam shrugs, “I was nice and let you sleep but I’m expecting someone else.”

Gabriel isn’t at all surprised when the man finally sits up looking all manner of pissed. He waits until the guy has dressed and left (with a few choice curses aimed at the hunter who simply shrugs them off) and only becomes visible again about ten minutes later, when Sam has settled at the table and opened his laptop. When he does reappear, it is with a wide, cheeky, grin, which he quickly shifts to something like surprise. Gabriel gives a low whistle, “Well he _-llooo_ Sammy.” A pointed glance to the rumpled bed, “This a bad time, kiddo?” He smirks. There is no reason to let the hunter know exactly how much he has seen, is there?

Sam glances over, “Uh, no, they’re gone, I was just checking to see if I can find a hunt around here.”

They. He doesn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it long ago. The simple fact the human rarely used ‘he’ or ‘she’ when talking about recent flings, or even past relationships, should have given him a clue. Maybe he _should_ have acted on impulse when they had first met. “Any leads?” He doesn’t know whether to hope Sam had found a job or not.

“Animal attacks, missing persons, nothing that stands out, though.”

The archangel crosses the room, taking the seat opposite the hunter and stretching his legs out under the table. If his foot just _happens_ to brush the other man’s leg, well is that really his fault? Now that there is no question in his mind as to how Sam swings, what’s left to stop him from acting on impulse?

Except…without a soul, it isn’t the same man that captured his attention years ago. He looks the same – well, he’s grown up, and nicely – but he lacks the depth, the passion.

It doesn’t seem as if Sam had notices the touch, and Gabriel pulls the offending leg up to cross over the other – right ankle on left thigh. “Pizza, beer, and some bad TV?” If the hunter doesn’t have any leads to go on, it means a night in and a night in is always made infinitely less boring by the addition of those the three simple things. “Or we could go out, hit the town.” What little there is of one. So far, the highlight is the dive bar on the corner. Gabriel shrugs in response to the look the human throws at him, an expression that pretty well echoes his own thoughts on that matter.

“Right. We’re at the corner of Jack and Squat.” He stands again, “You call in the pizza, I’ll be back with booze?” The confused look the hunter shoots him earns a cheeky grin, though, and Gabriel moves to seat himself at the edge of the bed. “Or we can do it the easy way.” With a snap, the mini-fridge is fully stocked again and a large pizza box appears on the table. “Half veggie, half double-cheese, double-meat,” because Gabriel does not understand how the hunter can live on rabbit food, “fresh from an awesome little place in New York. Now, put the computer away and come watch terrible sitcoms.”

He reaches out and flips the television on, “Oh, and bring that pie over.” Yeah, he could have made it appear on the bed, or anywhere closer to where he was, but then he wouldn’t have been treated to the sight of shirtless Sam bringing it to him. Oh yeah, that’s an image that is definitely going into his mental photo album.

Two hours, one pizza, two six packs, and four terrible sitcoms later he feels the first touch. It isn’t much, just Sam’s knee against his own, but when the hunter doesn’t move away after more than a minute he can’t fully convince himself it was an accident. Besides, he can swear he’d caught the other man glancing at him like he was waiting for a reaction.

When Sam gets up for a restroom break a few minutes later, Gabriel moves to raid the mini-fridge again. Normally, he has no issues with a meaningless fling here and there and the stories from his days as Loki can attest to that. Somehow, this is different. Sure, the young hunter he had met years ago has grown from adorable to drop-dead gorgeous, but that isn’t all that’s different now. The new Sam is a hell of a temptation, that’s for sure, but he still wants the kid to take his soul back and he has no idea what might happen after that.

Gabriel straightens up and steps back – right into something very solid and very tall and pleasantly warm. Strong arms wrap around him and the angel curses internally. _‘Father damn it all, he is not making this easy,’_ but he wouldn’t be a Winchester if he doesn’t complicate things, right? “Sam.” Just one word and the slim hope that it will be enough for the man to back off, or at least hesitate. Instead, he feels himself being pulled closer.

“What?”

“What are you doin’, kiddo?”

“It isn’t obvious?”

“No, I mean, what are you _doing_.” The angel could be asking himself the same question. He could zap out, easily. He could leave the hunter alone, holding empty air, and be a thousand miles away within a second. Yet there he is, trapped in the loose circle of the human’s arms. Gabriel sets aside the beer he had grabbed a moment ago and turns in place; Sam lets him.                 

“I’ve seen you looking.” 

The archangel flashes a cheeky smirk, “Well, you’ve been parading around half naked all night, Sammy. Have you seen you?” The tone is playful and teasing, even if he’s one wrong move from flying to another continent.

Sam stares down at him with a small smirk of his own, “Hm,” a soft, thoughtful, hum, “longer than that.”

Shit. Longer? Even if he isn’t anywhere close to confessing it, he’s had his eye on the hunter since the day they met at that college and he had hoped there was the potential for something between them. Back then the hope had been for one night of mind-blowing fun, now it is something different. He has watched Sam and his brother fight against the plan his own father had laid out for the world and win. They’d torn up the script and launched themselves headfirst into uncharted territory. It was unprecedented, thought to be impossible, but here they are and Gabriel is faced with what may very well be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Sam leans in and Gabriel is gone before the hunter knows what happened.


End file.
